


something sweet, and almost kind

by borrowthemoonlight



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowthemoonlight/pseuds/borrowthemoonlight
Summary: Mildred appears on the cold stone floor, confused and wincing at the pain, as a drip of blood makes its way down her leg, soaking into her sock, the one that’s never pulled up to the height it should be.“Mildred. Hubble.” Mildred sits, frozen on the floor. “How many times have I told you there is to be no running in the corridors?”





	something sweet, and almost kind

**Author's Note:**

> thank you siân for giving me this idea when you said one of the products in lush looked like soil

It’s the start of lunchtime and Mildred Hubble is running down the corridor, again. Despite being told time and time again not to. Always a new excuse. _Sorry, Miss Hardbroom, I was on my way to return this spell science book to Mr Rowan-Web, I was supposed to do it earlier at break time_. Or _But, Miss Hardbroom, Enid says there’s a real life mountain troll just outside the grounds, she can see it from her bedroom window!_ To which Miss Hardbroom tells her not to be so absolutely ridiculous. Mountain trolls would never be seen on this side of the mountain.

She trips. The doing of her untied shoelaces. She doesn’t cry or make a fuss, but it makes Miss Hardbroom flinch, as she eyes the shiny, red gash on her knee and before Maud Spellbody even has the chance to help Mildred up off the floor, Miss Hardbroom transfers her straight into the potions lab, along with herself.

Mildred appears on the cold stone floor, confused and wincing at the pain, as a drip of blood makes its way down her leg, soaking into her sock, the one that’s never pulled up to the height it should be.

“Mildred. Hubble.” Mildred sits, frozen on the floor. “How many times have I told you there is to be no running in the corridors?” Miss Hardbroom’s eyes are wide and her lips are pursed.

“I’m sorry, Miss Hardbroom, really, it’s just I slept in and missed breakfast and I’m _starving_.” She jabbers.

“That is not an excuse. Be on time in the morning and you will not have to rush in the afternoon. Sit.” Miss Hardbroom says, gesturing to the chair that swiftly appears opposite her own at her desk.

Mildred attempts to stand, but a small whimper escapes her lips and Miss Hardbroom stands awkwardly for half a second before inevitably doing what needs to be done. She shuffles over to Mildred, bending slightly and reaching down her arms. Mildred takes both of her hands and is swiftly pulled into standing position, stumbling forward slightly into Miss Hardbroom, to which she takes a step back and place a steadying hand on Mildred’s arm.

“Sit.”

Mildred sits and attempts to speak. But she’s interrupted by the monstrous noise that rumbles from her stomach, making her instantly wrap her arms around herself, as if that would stop the noise. Eventually, she tries again. “I really am very hungry, Miss Hardbroom. Will this take long?”

Miss Hardbroom glares at her.

“Not that I’m not thankful for the help. I- I just haven’t eaten in 18 hours.”

A jam sandwich instantly appears on the desk next to Mildred and her face lights up and she mumbles a content _thanks_ just as she’s in the middle of her first bite, making Miss Hardbroom grimace just slightly.

Soon, Miss Hardbroom is summoning a few different vials and jars and creating a mixture in a pestle of something brown and slimy, with a few colourful herbs mixed it. And without much warning, she’s applying it to Mildred’s cut, making her hiss at first, but the pain subsides almost immediately.

“W- What is that exactly?” Mildred asks, quite unsure whether she wants to know the answer.

“Mud.” Miss Hardbroom says, plainly and simply, never looking up from her task.

“…Mud.” Mildred repeats, expressionless.

“Precisely.”

“Like magic mud? With magic in it? It’s not just ordinary mud... Is it?” Mildred asks, wanting to pull her knee away, but knowing Miss Hardbroom knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Yes, the main body of the concoction _is_ ordinary mud. But I suppose you would be correct to assume that it is in fact _magic mud_.”

“Right… Couldn’t you have just used magic? With your hands, I mean?”

Miss Hardbroom hesitates, like she’d rather not answer the question, but eventually she does. “Yes. But this will ensure the feeling in your knee returns as soon as the magic takes effect. If done using a different method, you may experience a numbness for anywhere from an hour to a few days, depending on the wound.”

“Oh.” Mildred nods, shovelling in another bite of sandwich, a little shocked that her potions mistress would go out of her way to take this kind of extra care for her.

Miss Hardbroom works in silence from then on, making sure a thick layer of the mixture covers the area around the cut as well. Mildred’s eyes wander to the pestle with the remainder of the mixture and seeing as Miss Hardbroom isn’t looking she gives it a poke. It feels like putty and she wonders if it would make a fart noise if she squished it enough. She decides not to try, not in the presence of Miss Hardbroom. 

It’s almost therapeutic, the cool weight of it on her knee and the squishy feeling of it beneath her fingers, and she realises it’s probably supposed to be. It’s why it takes the stinging away from her wound and why it smells a little like lavender and why she suddenly feels very relaxed even in the presence of her most strict teacher. She almost lets out a giggle at the situation, but she’s not that brave.

Knowing she should definitely stop fiddling, and going against that thought completely, she scoops up some of the muddy remedy, because it’s fun to squish. 

Miss Hardbroom’s brow furrows, as she wonders why Mildred can’t seem to just sit still. “Do you quite mind, Mildred?” Her voice makes Mildred jump and her hand jolt and, before she can stop it, there’s a dollop of mud flinging from her finger.

“Perhaps this will teach you not to be so carele-” 

_Right_ on Miss Hardbroom’s chin. That’s where the mud lands.

Mildred freezes. Her eyes growing wider than her head. Miss Hardbroom’s head lifts and then stills. She blinks, possibly out of disbelief. 

“I- I’m s- sorry, Miss Hardbroom. I… I didn’t mean to…” She’s shaking her head.

“Mildred.” The mud on her chin dissolves into thin air, along with the mud on Mildred’s knee. “Hubble.” Mildred stays sat, frozen to her seat. 

And then Miss Hardbroom appears to crack a smile. A very, _very_ slight smile. Barely even there. But it is there and Mildred decides it’s quite terrifying. She gulps. And then she gasps when a small flick of mud lifts from the pestle, suddenly travelling at full speed and landing _right_ on her own forehead.

Mildred’s mouth drops. Along with Miss Hardbroom’s smile, which disappears, making Mildred wonder if she really did smile in the first place.

“Close your mouth, Mildred, we are not catching flies.” Mildred closes her mouth, very uncertain of what has just happened. “Now. Go and join your friends. Do not run.”

Stunned, she manages to blurt out a thank you. She gets up to leave, careful not to trip over her own feet again when she hears a stern, “Wait.” And can do nothing else but freeze for the hundredth time today. 

Miss Hardbroom ties Mildred’s laces with the flick of a wrist. Vanishes the mud from her forehead too. “Do. Not. Run.” 

Mildred walks out of the potions lab feeling quite sure she’s just woken from some sort of dream. She goes to find Enid and Maud, desperate to tell them what’s just happened, but she does not run.


End file.
